


Mission: Find out who Bucky Barnes is & why Steve Rogers is so important

by mostlikelydefinentlymad



Category: Captain America (Movies)
Genre: Bucky Barnes Returns, Buckys PoV, Fluff, M/M, Stucky - Freeform, brief flashbacks of pre serum steve, bucky is on a journey to find himself, mission: find out who you are, post winter soldier, stand alone fic, there are 10 stops along the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-02
Updated: 2015-08-02
Packaged: 2018-04-12 15:37:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4484999
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mostlikelydefinentlymad/pseuds/mostlikelydefinentlymad
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>MISSION: Find out who you are, who he is. He's important, he's everything but you don't know why.  </p><p>There are ten stops along the way - each one more vital than the last.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Mission: Find out who Bucky Barnes is & why Steve Rogers is so important

**FACT:** you love him - it feels like you always have

 **FACT:** you can't remember a time when you didn't - he's there in every foggy memory

 **FACT:** you're not sure if he loves you now but he once did

 **FACT:** you would die for him and you wouldn't hesitate - you're not sure why

 **FACT:** you dream of his face, his eyes, his smile but in them he's smaller and he needs you

 

 **LIE:** he sees you as the monster you are

 **LIE:** he has moved on - he doesn't need you anymore

 **LIE:** he has given up on you

 **LIE:** you're not _him_ (no - deep down Bucky Barnes is still in there fighting and clawing his way to the surface)

 

 **MISSION:** Find out who you are, who he is. He's important, he's _everything_ but you don't know why. 

 

 **FIRST STOP:** Smithsonian. There's a large black  & white picture of a man that looks just like you but with softer eyes and cropped hair. Howling Commandos...Steve Rogers. The only part that seems familiar is his name. Inseparable since childhood and on the battlefield. _(flashes of a skinny kid with blond hair that falls onto his forehead when he ducks his head - he seems to do that often. why does he do that? his name is Steve but he looks bigger now. how? why?)_ Move to the side - there's his face and those eyes that seemed to stare right into your dark soul the first time he said your name in too many years. You'd forgotten you even had a name. Does an asset even need one? Captain America - the suit seems vaguely familiar, not sure why. 

 **SECOND STOP:** Take out the trash. Grenades, rifles - any high powered weapon you can find. You sneak into their houses much like a ghost (isn't that what you are these days?) and silently stop the beating of their hearts one by one. You remember a chair, pain, trigger words _(I need you to do it one more time)._ There was always another time. One more time - how often had you heard that one. You take comfort in knowing that they can no longer hurt anyone else.

 **THIRD STOP:** _Him._ He has a second story apartment in Brooklyn now _(Hey Buck...I was thinkin' we could get an apartment and try living on our own. It might be fun - there's a little place in Brooklyn I've been eyeing. It's not much but...)_ There's something about this area that keeps drawing him back. It's one a.m. and Steve is wide awake. He's hunched over a pile of papers, a frown on his face as if he doesn't like what he sees. Move closer - careful. Metallic arm glints in the moonlight and you hope he doesn't see you. His window is open and if you really wanted to you could... _no._ He raises his head and crinkles up his forehead as if he can almost feel your eyes on him. He holds a paper up a little higher as he examines it. You can see that it's an old newspaper clipping with the header: **Captain America declared M.I.A. Days After Losing Childhood Friend James "Bucky" Barnes.** You want to see what it says - to know where he went after your death. _(Take my hand! BUCKY! NO!)_ It hurts.

 **FOURTH STOP:** This stop takes years and frantic running - don't let them find you. You're gathering pieces of yourself and gluing them together like a puzzle - most of your memories involve _him._ You won't let them take it away again. Not now, not ever.

 **FIFTH STOP:** Cold trail, you're trapped. If you could rip your own arm off - weapon not arm - you would but it's tightly squeezed into a vise. You're not sure how you got here or how long you've been slumped in a hard chair. Your bones ache and you black out more often than not. You cannot die - you know this. You resign yourself to a lifetime of agony and pain, of no one ever finding you. You wonder if this is penitence for all the lives you've taken - you remember blurry faces. Too many victims and all you can do is _think._ He comes for you and it doesn't feel like the first time. You beg him for help - maybe this will make him trust you. You don't want to hurt him - the very thought of it makes your stomach sick. He brings in two other men - should you remember them? Are they going to hurt you? You don't let them touch you - only him.

 **SIXTH STOP:** You're running away again but he's at your side and another man who goes by the name of Sam. He says you don't know him but you've met before. You cringe. It's possible that he was a mission at one time and you failed. Steve stares right through you and most days he doesn't speak to you, merely around you and it makes you feel invisible and you should be used to that feeling by now but it hurts when it comes from him. You catch the words _superhero registration act_ and fight the urge to flee. The other man explains the situation - they're after you. They see you as an asset, a loose string, an assassin that deserves to be behind bars. You've lived that life, you don't want to go back. You tell him so and he says that's why we're not going back.

 **SEVENTH STOP:** Steve is gone, you're left with the other man who calls himself Sam Wilson. He tells you that Steve is caught in the fray and it would be suspicious if he went completely off grid. He is trying to keep eyes off of you. You smile then and it feels foreign. There's something about _him_ protecting you that makes you laugh. You see Steve on the news as the two of you hide out in a hotel far from prying eyes, under a false name. There's explosions and he's surrounded by people you don't recognize. There's a man in a metal (you're not sure) suit who can hoover in the air. _(We're going to the future!)_ You remember a hoovering car and smiling at Steve over your shoulder. STARK. You recall that name - who is he and why is he trying to kill Steve? Fight the urge to find him and end his life. No. You're not that person anymore if you could even call him a person.

 **EIGHTH STOP:** Steve returns and it feels like hes been gone forever. You follow his pacing from the corner of your eye. He seems stressed and says it's far from over. You want to slip through the cracks and disappear because you know that somehow you played a big part in this. He speaks to you more often now - avoids talking about the current situation and the danger. Focuses on memories - mainly he talks _at_ you and you listen. He weaves together stories and memories that belong to another life but you enjoy the way his face lights up when he talks of fair rides, a poor apartment in Brooklyn _(so it was real then)_ , the time you nearly caught the house on fire when you left a burner on and then blamed him. You want to be the man that he speaks of - you long for it. You devour every word and ask for more - _tell me who he was._ _Did you love him? He loved you._

 **NINTH STOP:** It is years later when the dust settles and you're all safe. Steve takes you to his apartment in Brooklyn and you smile - there's a record player and you put on some old tunes and it comes flooding back with an intensity that nearly knocks you off of your feet. _(Dancing with Steve - laughing even as he steps on your toes, making double dates just so you can take him to places you've been wanting to show him - he might say no otherwise, the spare key under a rock that you nudge with your shoe, searching a sea of funeral goers in shades of black - where's Steve? I need to make sure he made it home safe, riding The Cyclone and promising to avoid it next time as it made Steve sick. you laugh and he gives you a look.)_ You share these memories with him and his face lights up with all the brightness of the morning sun. He gives you your own room right next to his and you have coffee together in the morning. He leaves sometimes - says hes helping friends and you wait. You want to help but he says he can't risk it. He loads a shelf with old records next to the record player and you spend your time listening to them as you catch up on your reading. You feel more restless than calm and when he's gone sometimes the demons come back and you collapse into a heap behind the front door. He found you there once and you'll never forget the look of pain in his eyes as he apologized _(for what?)_ and made you a cup of hot tea with honey. He didn't force you out - he sat on the couch and read out loud until the dark clouds parted and all you could see was him.

 **THE FINAL STOP:** You're the most you that you'll ever be. You go to the gym with Steve on Friday afternoons, join him in the fray when you're needed _(it took him a long time to agree to this but you were restless and he was afraid you'd leave),_ sleep in on the weekends and hope for no nightmares - they're less frequent these days but they haven't gone away, you make polite conversation with Sam when he visits - he tells you about Riley and it makes you wonder if Steve mourned you like he mourns Riley even all these years later, you buy a houseplant for the apartment and place it on the windowsill. Steve teases you about your black thumb and how it won't last a month. It lasts at least two weeks before it withers in the sun - you'll try again.

It is a sunny Tuesday morning when it happens. Steve has been smiling more often that not lately and touches you gently - a squeeze of the shoulder as he leaves, a brush of his fingertips as he passes the morning paper to you and it isn't the first time he has done it, a stiff hug that you attempt to reciprocate but your arms end up hanging loosely at your side as if you've forgotten how to touch. On this day you're sprawled out on the couch with one arm behind you, the other holding a book about modern politics from 1940-1975. It's a little outdated but you're trying to catch up.

He takes the book from your hand and instinct kicks in - you grab him by the wrist with all your strength. He doesn't flinch as you apologize. He tells you there's nothing to be sorry about and though you don't believe him, you want to. You drop his hand and he flips over the metallic one _(how can he even want to touch it? it has taken too many lives)_ and interlaces it with his own. He smiles at you then and he looks as if he's found something hes been looking for for a long time. You smile back and hope that it doesn't resemble a snarl.  He kisses the palm of your hand and you can't feel it but your stomach fills with butterflies. You allow him to trace a finger over your cheekbones, your forehead, the tip of your nose, the curve of your lips. It tickles in the best kind of way and you can't seem to keep your eyes open. He tucks a long strand of hair behind your ear and his fingers lightly graze your ears.

You recall the touch of a woman - ages ago but it never felt like this. It never made your heart thump harder in your chest, your breathing to come out in heated puffs of air, never made your skin tingle with a single touch. You remember faintly, just faintly, wanting him. Always wanting _him._

He leans in painfully slow and draws your face to his until you're inches apart. You take his face in both hands and first kiss his forehead _(thank you for not giving up on me),_ the tip of his nose _(I promise you I'll always keep you safe),_ each cheekbone _(_ _Oh how I loved you with everything in me even as I dragged you along on double dates for the sheer purpose of seeing you - taking you to places you'd enjoy. I've loved you all of my life and I'll love you still if you'll have me)_ and finally his lips as you pull him down on the couch. He's heavy but you don't mind, he's no longer frail and you can do this now. You trail your tongue over both of his lips and he moans and tangles his fingers in your hair. You memorize every line on his face, the way he tastes under your tongue, the parts that make him gasp when you touch him there, the feeling of his heart against yours, the way it all seems like a dance. You smile as he must have been thinking the same - he tells you then that hes finally found the right dancing partner as he drags you to your feet. You dance in the darkness with the moon shining in through the open window and you _know._ He's in love and so are you.

 **MISSION:** COMPLETE

 

**Author's Note:**

> I've never written from this POV before but I really seeing Bucky's journey through his eyes and I hope you did too.
> 
> heavily inspired by the most beautiful gifset I've ever saw (does not belong to me) http://star-spangledsass.tumblr.com/post/125441878184/bellsmy-insp#notes


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